


Not to Mii

by matchstick_dolly



Series: Matches After Midnight [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Episode Related, Episode: s03e18 The Last Heartbreak, F/M, First Time, Humor, Light Angst, Mario Kart, Oral Sex, POV Chloe, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Season/Series 03, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, Stripping, fuckruary2020, tease, video games - Freeform, whiplash not of the neck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22560886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchstick_dolly/pseuds/matchstick_dolly
Summary: It starts out innocently enough, with a cup of coffee and video games, but when Chloe agrees with Lucifer to up the ante with stripping, the detective and the Devil are in serious trouble.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Matches After Midnight [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620778
Comments: 81
Kudos: 440
Collections: catchingthewindfav





	Not to Mii

**Author's Note:**

> For [Fuckruary 2020](https://freakyfebruary.tumblr.com/post/189113012894/freaky-february-rules)'s "Stripping" prompt. Thanks to [Liannabob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liannabob/pseuds/Liannabob) and [ObliObla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla) for their eyes.

Chloe had only just closed the door to her apartment when someone rapped on it gently. "Olga? Did you forget something?"

But when she opened the door, it wasn't to Trixie's surly Eastern European sitter. Lucifer waited on the other side, dressed, as always, like a long lost member of the Rat Pack. 

"Well, that's a new one," he said, grinning. "Never been mistaken for an _Olga_ before." 

With a small laugh, he crossed the threshold into her apartment, not bothering to wait for an invitation. Notably, he didn't usually bother with knocking, either—in the past, because he didn't seem to understand _the concept_ and then, later, because she didn't really mind one way or the other. In all their time together, she'd never figured out how he bypassed her locks without making a sound. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked, closing the door behind him.

He turned to her, and her heart squeezed at his diffident expression. Sometimes his pain, whoever or whatever had caused it, seemed to writhe just beneath the surface of his skin, as though the slightest provocation might rip apart his absurd metaphors and reveal who he _truly_ was. Sometimes she even imagined being the provocateur.

"I, um..." He swallowed. "I wanted to explain," he began. 

This should be good, she thought, her feelings swinging, pendulum-like, in the opposite direction, where her heart swiftly calcified. He was always having to explain himself, wasn't he? For being late, for not following through, for going off on his own and ruining _everything_. She was not his therapist. Or his girlfriend. He'd made sure of _that_ , the couple of times she'd been stupid enough to entertain the idea. 

"Look, I know that I've been acting—"

" _Insecure_?" she interrupted. "Childish? Possessive?"

"Well, I was going to say strangely, but—" He sighed. "Never mind. The truth is that, perhaps I _was_ slightly insecure"—Chloe looked at him sharply, surprised by the admission—"about Pierce moving in on our partnership."

"Oh, Lucifer, that's not what's happening."

Truth be told, _she_ wasn't sure what was happening between her and Marcus, but it definitely wasn't as professional as it should be. The question was, did she care? She was tired of trying to be taken seriously by...everyone. At least Marcus seemed to take her seriously.

"I know," Lucifer insisted, "because I've realized there's room in your life for all _sorts_ of relationships. Even if one of them is with..." He averted his gaze. "With him."

Why did it feel like they were breaking up?

But she felt herself nodding. "I—"

"Just, please, be careful." 

She huffed, smiling at him. As if Marcus could have anywhere _near_ the baggage a man who thought he was the Devil did. The one who she _really_ needed to be careful of—who she'd _always_ needed to be careful of—was standing right in front of her.

"Okay," Lucifer said with an awkward smile.

Chloe knew she needed to be careful, and yet an offer tumbled out of her mouth with ease. "Do you wanna stay? I can make some coffee, and we can—"

"Ah," he said, "I can't, unfortunately. There's a bachelorette party at Lux, and, well..."

And, well, horny bridesmaids need company, she thought wryly.

She nodded, biting her lip. She should let him go. She should _let herself_ let him go. Instead, she whispered a single word, a final plea: "Stay."

Lucifer stared at her in that hawk-eyed way he had, his lips parting and closing, parting and closing. Finally, he spluttered, "I— I suppose they'll get on without me. Let me just make a quick call."

Chloe's heart galloped. "Oh. Okay. Yeah, sure. You do that. I'll—" She pointed vaguely toward the kitchen. "I'll start the coffee."

"Right," Lucifer said, nodding. "Lovely. I'll just be a tick."

She went to round the kitchen bar at the same time he lifted his cell phone to his ear and made to step outside her apartment. As they passed one another, her shoulder brushed against his arm—lightly, not enough to hinder movement, not even enough to acknowledge it—but it felt like a match had been struck and a wick had been lit. 

Chloe opened a cabinet with trembling hands and removed the kettle and the French press Lucifer insisted she use whenever he drank coffee in her home. Even the grounds were his, some expensive roast she didn't dare ask the cost of, lest she feel the urge to ration it. 

While setting the kettle to boil and scooping out coffee grounds, she listened to the mellow resonance of Lucifer's voice as it filtered through the door he'd left cracked open. His words were impossible to decipher, but there was something deeply comforting about knowing he was near. Even now, even with all the recent weirdness and pain between them, something about their friendship unwound the tight knot she always carried in her chest, the one that had first appeared after her father's murder and, in many ways, had only grown ever since. Until Lucifer came along. Not to say he didn't inspire a different kind of anxiety.

She hated how vulnerable he made her feel, and she loved it, too. 

Don't get attached, she cautioned herself. Hadn't she _just_ told herself not to get drawn in? Now, here she was making him coffee. Like an idiot. Whatever was happening now wouldn't last. It never did with Lucifer. 

But maybe you could enjoy it for one night, she thought, and her heart raced a little faster when she considered Trixie was home, asleep in her bedroom. They couldn't very well keep making noise in the kitchen and living area. They could retreat to the terrace or... Would they spend time upstairs? Was that something she was really considering? 

Her cheeks puffed out as she blew air past her lips. 

Lucifer returned as she was picking up the plunger for the press. He spread his arms wide and grinned. "Well, that's all sorted now, so consider me yours for the night."

She smiled at him a little shyly. "Coffee's almost ready."

He watched as she eased the plunger like he had taught her. They glanced at each other, their mouths pulled tight in identical near-smirks. There was something amusingly inappropriate about the movement required, and a small snicker passed her lips.

"Why, _Detective_ , have you been drinking?" Lucifer chuckled.

"No," she laughed, tipping the carafe to pour steaming coffee into two mugs the color of robin's eggs. "I'm just tired." She looked up when light caught on silver at the edge of her peripheral vision. 

Lucifer held out his flask, as if it were a peace offering. "Care to _start_ drinking?"

Chloe snorted. She really shouldn't. Whisky likely didn't go well with having passed out only hours before. And there was work tomorrow, school for Trixie... But then she threw caution to the wind and snatched the flask from him. "Oh, what the hell," she muttered and tipped liquor into both mugs.

"What the hell," he echoed, grinning.

She handed him his coffee and flask and watched him pour more liquor into his mug, until it nearly overflowed. He sipped, smacked his lips, and then added more whisky still. Even with it being diluted, she'd never know how he drank coffee when it was still boiling hot.

"Did you have any..." Lucifer cleared his throat against the mouth of his mug. "Were there _plans_ for this evening, Detective? You know, other than nearly getting gassed to death by a serial killer's biggest fan?"

"Uh... No? I guess." Chloe sipped her coffee carefully, testing its temperature. "I'm really glad you were there, by the way."

"Ah, well, a _good_ partner _should_ be there, shouldn't he?"

That was probably as close to an enlightened apology for several recent events as she would ever get. 

She gave a watery smile. "We haven't spent much time together since the whole...Sinnerman...thing."

Which she was still angry about, though time had sanded the sharp edges of her feelings, as it had a tendency to do where Lucifer was concerned. With the worst of her anger gone, she'd _missed_ him.

Lucifer nodded. "Yes, it's been a while, hasn't it? Well, we could go somewhere, if you like. There's this quaint little—"

"Trixie's home," she interrupted.

" _Is_ she?" Lucifer looked about her kitchen and living area in alarm. "But I've not been accosted."

Chloe laughed. "She's asleep."

"Small mercies."

"That does mean I want us to be quiet, though."

"Oh?" Lucifer chuckles, his eyes sparkling. "I can be quiet as a church mouse, if need be. What about you?"

Chloe's cheeks bloomed with heat. "Uh, do you want pizza? I didn't really get to eat earlier." Though Marcus had made her favorite dish...

"Good idea. I'll order," he said, whisking his phone from a pocket.

After he'd ordered, an awkward silence grew between them as they drank their coffee—grew and grew until Chloe burst out with the only thing that would come to mind: "Do you play video games?"

Lucifer's brows shot up high on his forehead. "Can't say that I've tried them, really. Last time I was around one was with this woman who liked to play those shooter games whilst I went d—" He snapped his mouth shut before amending, "Well, when I visited her."

Chloe snorted and set her empty mug beside his in the kitchen sink. A pleasant warmth was spreading through her limbs from the whisky. "How's that even a thing?" 

"Everything's a thing to someone, Detective." 

She blinked and shook her head. " _Anyway_ , I've got a Switch."

"Oh, really? Coincidentally, so do I," he said. "Several, actually."

"Uh... Not that kind of switch, I'm guessing." She laughed, and he grinned. "The Switch is a gaming console. Here, I'll show you." 

Grabbing him by an elbow, she dragged him with her to the living room, where she pulled the device, the Joy-Con steering wheels, and a zippered pouch of games out from a basket she kept by the sofa. She stared at them, uncertain, before looking up into dark, watchful eyes. "We could play on the device outside," she said softly, showing him the small screen, "or I've got a TV upstairs." She tucked hair behind her ear. "In my room."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Well, it _is_ a bit cool outside."

"That's what I was thinking," she said quickly. "Okay, let me just leave a note on the door for the delivery person, so they don't knock. We can check for our pizza in a half hour." Now that Lucifer was staying and going to be in her room, she had a deep desire to ensure her nine-year-old remained asleep. She chose not to analyze why.

As they crept upstairs, down the short hall, and past Maze's bedroom, Chloe had the distinct urge to giggle. She hadn't snuck around with anyone, even Dan, in years, and there was something exhilarating about it, as if she were standing at the edge of some great height before leaping. Her heart pounded as she eased open her bedroom door and went about flicking on a series of lamps. Lucifer had been in her room exactly once, and it wasn't the most pleasant of memories.

He appeared to be thinking the same thing as he said, "I'm glad you're not poisoned this time."

"Yeah, that's always nice," she joked. "Sorry it's...a mess." 

God, why did she even suggest this? Her bed was half-made, the lid on her dirty clothes hamper was tilted up by a mountain of clothes, and the one accent chair had _last week's_ washing on it. Including the very purple bra, which, of course, sat on the very top of the pile.

"This is just cozy," Lucifer said. "I've been in far less desirable places, I assure you." They looked at the bed for a long moment. "Do you wish me to...?"

"Mm-hmm, yeah, if you want," she said, nodding jerkily. She pointed in several haphazard directions. "There are, uh, pillows lying around if you need them."

Nodding, he walked to the far side of the bed and sat. The mattress sunk beneath his weight as he bent and began untying his shoelaces. Chloe watched his back, enjoying his fluid movements and the way his light grey jacket and vest rode up to reveal the dark charcoal dress shirt tucked into his pants. 

She bit her lip and slid out of her tall boots before turning to the television she had mounted above her chest of drawers. Grabbing the HDMI and USB cables she left plugged into the back of the TV, she inserted them into the device's dock and then went to join Lucifer on the bed. He had taken off his shoes and jacket and plumped several pillows behind himself, and she had a passing, dangerous thought that she liked him here, in her cozy mess.

"So, what game are we playing, Detective?"

If she only knew. "I was thinking Mario Kart." She settled beside him. "Everybody likes Mario Kart."

Chloe turned on the television and wriggled, trying to stay on her half of the mattress. After what she had come to think of as _The Divorce_ , she had downsized to a double bed. Now Lucifer's bulk dragged her into his orbit by creating a dip she couldn't easily avoid by shifting farther to the left.

"Are you quite all right?" he asked, amused by her fidgeting.

"I just—" She wriggled again. "I'm just trying to give you space."

"I don't need space," he said, and then looked away from her to the muted television, where news anchors were talking about the very case they had closed only hours before. "Would you prefer I move to the chair?"

They looked at her purple bra. She was amazed he hadn't commented on it yet.

"No," she squeaked. "I'm good if you're good." 

"Then quit tottering about," he laughed. "I won't bite." He smirked, his eyes still fixed on the television. "Unless you ask very nicely."

She ignored the way his words dropped down to places they shouldn't and let herself relax into the dip until the right half of her body was wedged against his left. Her stomach did somersaults as she changed the input to the television and brought up the Switch menu.

"It's got the wrong game," she groaned. "Give me a minute."

Chloe leaned forward and crawled on her hands and knees across the bed to open up the game case and dig out Mario Kart. After slotting the game card into the device, she turned back and found herself caught in Lucifer's gaze. 

Clearing his throat, he grabbed a pillow from her side of the bed and plopped it down on his lap before reaching for one of the Switch wheels. "So how do I use this thing?" he asked, making exaggerated turns with the mock steering wheel.

"Basically like that." She rejoined him, falling into the dip more comfortably this time. "Uh, first, do you want to play as a guest or make an account?"

"What do I get if I make an account?"

"A Mii."

"Pardon?"

Chloe laughed and pointed to her avatar in the top left of the screen. "The little character. See? It looks like me."

Lucifer grinned a little. "It does, too! Beauty mark and everything. You humans have devised some fabulous and entertaining distractions to stave off existential dread, haven't you?"

Sometimes she didn't even know what to say to him. "Um, so, did you want your own Mii?"

"Of course I want to bloody look like myself. I take great pride in my appearance."

When he cared to be attentive, Lucifer was a fast learner. He took to using the controller with ease and was soon flipping through Mii appearance options while providing colorful commentary. 

"Who has a mouth like _that_?" He tried more settings. "Ooh, now I look downright angry," he said, selecting pointy eyebrows and chuckling to himself as he angled them at his Mii's nose. 

Laughing, Chloe got up from the bed. "I'm gonna see if we have pizza yet."

Lucifer hummed without really listening. When she returned a few minutes later with a large pizza box and two plates, he had finally selected a series of character traits: dark brows and hair, an unabashed grin, even the five o'clock shadow and eyes lined with black. It really did resemble him, except for one key difference.

"Why did you give yourself red eyes?" she asked, flipping open the pizza box. The scent of Kalamata olives and garlic wafted up on steam.

"The Devil has red eyes," Lucifer said. Then he frowned and amended, "Typically."

"But no horns, right?" she teased.

Lucifer let his hands and the controller drop to the pillow on his lap. "What is this obsession with horns?"

"No obsession," she said, a little too quickly to sound innocent.

"It was one of the first things you asked!"

"It was just a joke." And definitely not something weird that had popped up in multiple dreams starring some horned version of the man sitting two feet away from her. On her bed. 

Throwing the pillow aside, Lucifer leaned forward and slid a slice of pizza onto his plate. "Not a teratophile, then?" 

Something in his tone made her look up from her pizza. "I don't know what that is."

"All Greek to you, is it?" His cheeks bulged like a squirrel's as he took bites that were too big for his mouth. A moment later, he swallowed and paused long enough to explain, "Means _monsterfucker_."

Chloe nearly choked on an olive. "Uh, no," she wheezed, once she was past the worst of her coughing, "I don't think that's me."

Was it? She looked down, veiling herself behind hair, as her face grew hot. 

Lucifer huffed and chucked a piece of crust back into the pizza box. "Didn't imagine so." He scooted back to the head of the bed. "Ready to play when you are, Detective."

Once she was finished eating, Chloe set aside the pizza box and plates and loaded up the game. Colorful menus featuring Mario appeared on the screen with music that reminded her of old game shows. She turned down the volume on her TV to ensure Trixie wouldn't hear it.

" _Dad_ , why does it sound like this?"

"Huh?"

"Is that supposed to be _music_?"

"Oh, yeah, it's really cheery."

" _Cheery_? It sounds like I feel after a kilo of coke."

Chloe rolled her eyes and gave him a quick rundown of what to expect in the game, going so far as to explain about how different characters and racing equipment came with different advantages and disadvantages.

"I like the heavy class for—"

"Okay, that's enough lecturing," Lucifer interrupted her, holding up a hand. "Gosh, is this what you get up to when I'm not around? And here I thought Miss Lopez was the only nerd."

"Whatever, Mr. Cool," she laughed. "For that, I'm gonna make you play online with people who know what they're doing."

"However will I manage against cellar-dwellers."

She smirked, knowing he wouldn't feel so confident in an actual race. They selected their drivers and equipment, and Chloe joined a game lobby, where she and other players from around the world voted for their favorite race track out of three. 

"How democratic," Lucifer commented, then frowned when the game randomly selected one of the maps from those chosen by users. "Well, that...took a turn. Why are we playing—what is it? _Moo Moo Meadows_?—when seventy-five percent voted for _Cheep Cheep Beach_? And what _are_ these names?"

Chloe shrugged, her shoulder rubbing against his arm with the movement. "Just how the game works."

"Doesn't seem very fair."

"You'll probably say that about it sometimes."

An idyllic cow-and-windmill-filled pastureland that looked like it might be inspired by the Swiss Alps panned onto the screen before zooming in on the starting line with its eager race participants. Chloe's spike-shelled Bowser and Lucifer's King Boo, chosen solely for his long tongue, sat in their respective vehicles.

Lucifer looked at it all skeptically. "Are you sure this is a game for adults?"

"Accelerate!" Chloe whisper-shouted when the countdown for the race hit two seconds.

"Bloody hell!" Lucifer griped, fumbling with his wheel. The race began in earnest, and so, too, did more of his complaints. "This is _not_ what driving feels like!"

Chloe laughed when she peeked at him and saw his right foot was arched forward, as if he were pressing down on an invisible accelerator. 

As soon as Lucifer hit an item box, he panicked, "What's happening? That just did something to me. Oh, do I have a star now? How appropriate! But what is it? Should I use it?" He jerked his wheel sideways to slide around a curve in the map. "Detective! How do I use it?"

"I thought you didn't want a lecture?" Chloe didn't bother to look at his side of the split screen.

"Okay, fine, you were right to lecture me! I'm all for coming second, Detective, but I'm bloody impotent in _twelfth place_."

The game carried on like this, with Lucifer's complaints, confusion, and periodic bouts of anger over the unfairness of it all. He cursed more in three laps around a virtual racecourse than Chloe had ever heard him curse before, making her glad she'd never tried Mario Kart with him while Trixie was around. Her daughter didn't need to learn any _more_ swear words in any more languages.

Chloe fell back against her pillows with a relieved sigh when she narrowly placed fourth. She watched Lucifer flounder in last place, his vehicle slowing each time he bumped along the green grass, which was more difficult to drive across than the smoothed racecourse. He was so far behind that the race forced an end before he could cross the finish line one last time. Lucifer fell back beside her with a frustrated grunt.

"So," she teased, nudging with her shoulder, "what'd you think?"

"I think this is an admirable torture device."

"I thought you were having fun."

"Oh, I don't mind torture devices," he said. "They can be used to pleasurable ends." 

She blinked at him. "Uh, do you want to play more?"

"Of course I do!" he barked. "I have to regain my dignity."

They continued to play, drifting from one map to the next, through cartoonish deserts and tundras, cyberpunk cities, and lands made of sweets, rainbows, and ruins. With each race, Lucifer got a little better at the game, and soon he began to catch up to Chloe, where she usually placed in the middle of the pack. 

"Ooh, I think I might _win_ this one," he announced, using a spin boost to pass another player in the neon Electrodrome.

"You're in _seventh_ place," she said.

"Sixth," he corrected, "which happens to be my lucky number." She sat up straighter, realizing he was right behind her. "But I'm not trying to beat the others, Detective, just you."

"What! Why?" she cried as an item box gave her a banana peel. 

"Because it should be _impossible_ for a _cop_ to be better than the actual Devil at anything fun."

"Oh, yeah?" She released the banana peel when he got too close to her bumper.

"How _dare_ you!" His King Boo spun out of control, and three players sped past him. Lucifer spluttered, "You can't slip a man a banana without warning, Detective!"

Chloe crowed with laughter as she passed the finish line. She tossed the wheel aside and turned to her adversary, planting her hands on the bed beside his hips. " _You_ can't stand that I'm better at this than you are."

Lucifer finished in tenth place and scowled at her. "The tides will turn."

"Uh-huh," she laughed, falling back to her pillows. She picked up her wheel again and exaggerated left and right turns on an imaginary course. "I'm better than you are," she sang, and voted on a new race track.

"You are not," he groused. "That was pure luck. The game is rigged."

Chloe shrugged, grinning. The retro, N64 version of Rainbow Road was randomly selected from the votes and loaded onto the screen.

"I know how to settle this," Lucifer said as the colorful race began. "Fancy a little wager?"

"I am _not_ betting money on a game like Mario Kart." As an afterthought, she added, "Or any other game." Lucifer was liable to pull a wad of Benjamins out of his pocket.

"What _will_ you bet, then?" he asked, while collecting a double item box. "Work duties? Items of clothing?" He laughed at the thought. "What do you say, Detective? Up for a little Strip Mario Kart?"

Chloe activated a mushroom and sped forward on the track, but her head was no longer in the game, and she soon fell behind two other players. Lucifer was teasing her. He didn't _really_ expect her to agree to, or even consider, betting clothes over Mario Kart or otherwise. It wasn't her style. But what _was_ her style these days? The longer she was divorced and the older Trixie got, the more she realized she didn't know herself all that well. She made safe choices, over and over again, even when they made her unhappy. Work was the only place she took risks. It was only through work that she would have ever become friends with the person beside her.

She thought of Marcus as her character cut through the air with a glider. He seemed like a decent enough man, if a little troubled and not necessarily well-liked around the precinct by anyone but Ella, who liked everyone to a fault. He was serious in the field. Good on paper. Easy on the eyes.

But Lucifer... She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and her heart raced like it was on its very own track. Lucifer was...a mess, but he made her see the world in new and weird ways. Every time there was a new case, she couldn't wait to call him, sometimes even when she was angry with him. Because, most of all, Lucifer was _fun_. And sometimes she wanted to be fun, too, to prove to him and to herself that she didn't _always_ choose the safest, most boring route in life. 

The race ended with her in seventh place and Lucifer in eighth. And she leapt from a great height without any glider to ease her fall.

"I'd be up for betting clothes," she said, and then immediately wished she could reel the words back inside herself.

Lucifer's head turned toward her slowly, his lips parted in surprise. " _Detective_?"

Her throat went dry as he stared at her, but she struggled on, "I'll change us over to a local game."

"You want to take your clothes off? With _me_?" He looked around, his gaze settling on her purple bra. " _In your room_?"

Chloe put all her focus on the screen. "If I win, I won't be the one stripping."

"So you want _me_ to strip?"

"You were the one who mentioned betting," she snapped, her confidence waning. "And stripping."

"I— Yes? But you _desire_ this?" He seemed genuinely perplexed.

She swallowed and shrugged. "I think it could be fun?" she whispered.

"So do I," he breathed. He licked his lips and regained some of his swagger. "Well, then, what happens when you lose all your clothes, Detective?"

"I'm not gonna lose," she countered. Chloe was quiet for a moment as she thought, and quiet for a few more as she set up the new game. Finally, she said, "The winner gets to decide what happens after."

A wide grin stretched across Lucifer's face. "Oh, you're _on_ ," he said, and his King Boo burst past the starting line and three computer-generated players.

But Lucifer lost his left sock on the Super Bell Subway, and his right on Mount Wario. He was usually so keen to strip down for all the world to see him that Chloe was surprised he didn't consider both socks a single loss—or take off his pants first. 

"I never knew you were so competitive," she commented.

"Who wants to lose a bet?" He glanced at her. "Perhaps I'm eager to collect my winnings, Detective."

Chloe chuckled uncertainly. God, what had she done?

Thankfully, he lost again, placing third to her first. 

The air in the room changed as they were faced with the loss of the first significant piece of clothing. Lucifer rose from the bed and began unbuttoning his light grey vest. Chloe had never been one for strippers, including the male stripper Ella had somehow organized for her birthday with Pierce's blessing. She liked cheesy, probably more than she should, but a person hopping out of a plastic cake and tearing off clothes was pushing it. But no one had ever given her a _private_ show, especially not anyone she'd been trying and failing for years _not_ to want. This was...uncharted territory. The stuff of horned devil dreams.

She hated how good he was at it, how much a simple vest made her body come alive with want. Not even the absurd Mario Kart music, which continued to play softly in the background, could diminish his skill. Where most other men might look down as they unbuttoned their clothes quickly and without grace, Lucifer's fingers massaged each button free, while his heated gaze never left her face. He was used to being looked at, to performing, and there was something tragically beautiful in that. The unbuttoned vest slid down the arms of his dark grey shirt and fell to the floor with a soft whisper. 

Her eyes drifted lower, to the obvious bulge pressing up and to the right against his hip. And for a moment, as her own sex ached, she believed all his stupid bullshit, that he really _was_ tapped into a well of desire, hers most of all.

"Are we going to keep playing, Detective?" Lucifer asked, his voice low and hoarse.

Chloe lifted her eyes and was grateful he looked as ragged as she felt. She wasn't certain he was talking about Mario Kart, but she shook herself and turned back to the TV. "Yeah," she said, nodding and taking up her wheel. "Yep. Keep playing."

She glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight, but she was wide awake.

It finally happened in Toad Harbor, the map they had played the most so far. Mere seconds before reaching the finish line, Lucifer swept up behind her and released a red shell, which homed in on her Bowser with punishing precision. Without means to dodge the attack, the shell cracked open and flipped her character into the air, halting her progression. King Boo and two non-player characters rushed past. Lucifer came in first. She came in fourth.

Chloe set her wheel down and sighed.

"I won't hold you to the bet, you know," Lucifer said without looking at her. "I'm not that kind of Devil."

She smiled a little at his aquiline profile. "Tights or shirt?" she asked.

His mouth quirked up as he looked at her sidelong. "In that case, show me your gams, Detective."

Laughing, Chloe lay on her back and drew her short grey skirt higher until she could hook her fingers into the elastic band of her dark tights. She pushed at the clingy material, wiggling her hips back and forth.

Fingertips lightly settled against one of her wrists. "May I help?"

"That wasn't part of the game," Chloe said, but she also stilled with her tights just below the hemline of her skirt.

"We didn't say it _couldn't_ be part of the game."

So often in their quiet, intimate moments, Lucifer's gaze was full of longing and something that seemed an awful lot like fear, as if he believed their partnership was little more than a soap bubble that would burst at any second. But this look, this was different. Starving, it betrayed his desires and fanned the flames of her own. 

A tremulous sense of power settled in her bones as she nodded. "You can help." 

Lucifer edged to the opposite end of the narrow bed. "Tell me if you don't like something I do, please. I...I can't read you."

And here she thought, with her uneven breathing and her heartbeat drumming in her head, that she was an open book. "I'll tell you," she agreed.

He slid his fingers around her ankles and lifted her legs, pulling them toward his thighs. "This is all right?"

"Lucifer, I'm okay." Better than okay, she thought, as large hands clamped around her feet, making her feel small and wanted. 

Kneading his thumbs into her high arches, he massaged right to the edge of pain before caressing it all away. He dragged his hands around her heels and returned to her ankles before skimming fingertips along the insides of her calves. His palms glided over her knees, to the outside of her legs, and continued up to her thighs, where Chloe jolted when his skin landed on hers and pressed down, wedging between flesh and nylon. He drew the tights downward, revealing pale skin, inch by exquisite inch, as if they had all the time in the world. When the last bit of nylon stretched and popped away from her toes, Lucifer threw the clothing behind him and stared openly at her legs. 

Chloe curled her toes over the soft wool on his thighs while watching his face. Neither of them mentioned his obvious erection. "Next race?" she suggested.

"Very well." He crawled back up the bed in a way that nearly had her tearing the rest of her clothes off. Or maybe his.

To Chloe's horror and excitement, they were more evenly matched now. She lost her sweater in the next race, and then her mini skirt after that, a fact which seemed to restore Lucifer's confidence in full. She was glad she'd worn one of her better bra and panty sets tonight. It wasn't anything fancy, just a standard black bra and bikini, but at least nothing was fraying anywhere, and everything matched. At the time of her dressing, it had all been part of her outfit for her fake date with Marcus to lure the serial killer. She'd had no idea anyone would _actually_ see her in it. She certainly never could have imagined anyone would see her in it because of _stripping_ —to _Mario Kart_.

On Lucifer's next loss, he put on a show of removing his belt, his eyes sparkling as the leather bumped through each belt loop.

"I should've left my bloody jacket on," he complained shortly thereafter, fingers making quick, elegant work of the buttons to his dress shirt. "You have an _unfair_ advantage." He slipped free of the sleeves, and Chloe's eyes got stuck on the ridges of his abs and the V that pointed down like a natural arrow before she shook herself free of the possession. "You've got _two_ more pieces of clothing to my one."

"One? Aren't you wearing..." she trailed off. It took all her willpower not to look down.

"I don't always bother with pants, no," he said, grinning. "And by pants, I mean undies."

"Isn't that uncomfortable?"

"It's a matter of accessibility, Detective." 

Chloe's face screwed up, even as her body betrayed her by taking a newfound interest in the man beside her. "Gross."

" _Gross_ , is it?" he laughed. "Perhaps I should just take my"—he waved the wheel at his crotch—"Joy-Con and go." She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled, settling back against the pillows and crossing his bare ankles. "Well, go on, then, start up the next map. Can't wait for you to lose another round."

Bone-Dry Dunes, with its orange sunset and red rocks, eased onto the screen. Ironic, Chloe thought, shifting in place. As far as she was concerned, the virtual desert was the only thing remotely dry in the room.

She sped her Bowser and his purple race car around the track, quickly taking first place, but Lucifer's ghost was never far behind. They used items against each other, one taking the lead before the other would swoop in to steal it. The non-player characters were nowhere near.

"No," Chloe breathed as Lucifer edged closer to her as the finish line came into view around a curve in the final lap. "No. _No_."

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," he laughed, and used a mushroom to dart past her and take first place. "Hah!" he barked, and turned toward her, bouncing eagerly. "Off with it."

"Oh, God," she said, looking at the ceiling.

Lucifer grimaced. "No mentioning my father. I'd like to _enjoy_ this victory, Detective."

"Whatever," she laughed. "I can't believe we're doing this. That _I'm_ doing this." She turned down the volume even more on the television for fear Trixie might wake, barge in, and find out her mother had lost her damn mind.

"Oh, come on, I've already seen your wobbly bits." 

"Those times were different." Accidental, drunken. Whoops.

"Yes, this will be infinitely better."

More like terrifying. "Okay, here goes," she sighed.

Chloe reached behind herself and unhooked the clasp of her bra. The black cups fell from her breasts, catching briefly on peaked nipples. She slipped out of the arms and let the garment drop to the side of the bed before turning toward her partner, who stared at her with a small, appreciative smile on his face.

"Eyes up here," she teased, even as she preened beneath the interest.

Lucifer looked up, and the small smile turned into one of his full-cheeked grins, the kind he got when he was more than a little starstruck. "You're so much better in person, you know," he gushed.

"Uh-huh. I'm also nearly twice as old," she snorted, not quite buying what he was selling. She knew the kind of women and men Lucifer Morningstar took to his bed. There was maybe more variety there than one might expect—as she had learned from interviewing his partners in the past—but that did little to change how she felt she was stuck trying to measure up to an astonishing number of beautiful or at least interesting people. 

"Women are like fine wine," Lucifer said, shrugging. "Nothing wrong with a good vintage."

" _What_?" Chloe laughed in disbelief. "Are you seriously calling me _vintage_?"

"It's a _compliment_ ," he insisted. "Love me a good vintage."

Unbelievable.

They leaned back on the pillows, and Chloe was amused to find she wasn't so bothered being topless around him now that it had finally happened (intentionally). All this time, she'd psyched herself up about him seeing her naked again—what it might mean, what she'd think, what _he'd_ think. But, really, it was a lot like sitting with him, fully clothed. _Possibility_ was thick in the air between them, but pressure was not, which made their interaction nearly as comfortable as it was arousing.

"Last scrap of material for both of us," Lucifer observed.

"Winner takes all," Chloe agreed.

He put a hand to his chest. "You want to take me, Detective?"

Yes, she thought, but told him to shut up as she started a new race. _The_ race.

Lucifer dragged a pillow out from behind his back. Leaning away from the dip, he stood it between them and then slithered his body down until his head was hidden behind the soft wall. 

Chloe peeked over the edge of it. "What are you doing?" Her hair fell and tickled his forehead.

He waved a hand, knocking her tresses away. "Don't distract me." Grinning, she backed away as the green and water-filled Mario Kart track appeared on the screen. "I've seen some _Wild Woods_ in my time," he commented.

" _Shh_ ," Chloe hushed.

The race began, and they zipped through virtual villages jammed against a forested beanstalk. Their cars bumped over wooden bridges and flew through winding waterfalls. 

They remained evenly matched until the third lap, when a series of unfortunate events, involving green shells, banana peels, and a poorly executed turn, set Lucifer back to fifth place. With an indignant growl, he sat up and leaned forward, willing his character to go faster.

"You're about to lose," Chloe teased, nudging him with a foot.

Lucifer scoffed and ran through an item box. In the top left corner of the screen, the lottery wheel spun and spun until it finally landed on a black, angry-faced Bullet Bill. 

Chloe swore, while Lucifer hollered and immediately activated the power-up. His character morphed into a bullet that tore down the racecourse, butting aside his computer-generated opponents to shoot him into fourth, third, and then second place. 

The finish line was a short distance away when the bullet whizzed past Chloe's Bowser. When the bullet power-up was spent, all that remained was King Boo and his motorcycle, rumbling across the finish line in first place.

Lucifer tossed his controller aside and turned to her. " _I win_ ," he proclaimed, his eyes dipping quickly to her breasts.

"You won," she agreed. She couldn't believe it. This game really _was_ unfair sometimes.

Chloe turned off the television, and the room fell quiet. She stared into dark eyes, her flesh prickling with anticipation. Mischief played at the edge of Lucifer's expression, promising pleasurable surprises, if only she'd be brave enough to accept them. 

"What are we about to do?" she asked softly. It felt like her lungs couldn't get quite enough air.

Lucifer leaned close, and his weight on the mattress drew her in closer still. "We're going to strip you down, and I'm going to give you the best night of your life." He licked his lips. "That's what I'm here for, isn't it, Detective?"

Reaching up, Chloe framed his jaw with her fingers. "It's more than that, Lucifer," she whispered.

His eyebrows twitched with his uncertainty. "Is it?"

"It is to me. We're...friends, right?"

"Well." He looked down at her naked thighs before returning to her face. "Does that mean you don't want to...?"

"No," she laughed. "I definitely want to." God, it felt good to admit it.

"Oh, thank goodness," he laughed with her and rested his forehead against hers.

They touched noses, and she knew she loved him, though it hurt to admit that, even to herself. Choosing someone like Marcus would be easier, smarter. But maybe she didn't want easy, and maybe she had resigned herself to wanting what she couldn't quite have, at least not in the way she'd envisioned it. 

Working up the courage, she tilted her face and pecked his lips, once and briefly, and then thrilled at the bright smile it inspired in him.

"Do you wanna help me?" she whispered.

"Do I ever. Lie back," he said.

With a small, nervous sigh, Chloe did as he asked. Carefully manicured nails gently scratched her skin as his fingers dragged down the edge of her panties. He removed them slowly, as he had removed her tights. She lifted her hips to help, and the cotton fabric clung between her legs, obviously wet, before finally peeling away. She pressed her thighs together as he pulled the underwear down her legs and drew them from her feet with a flourish.

Lucifer lifted the black bikini high. It spun in a slow circle, the light catching on slick shine. "Well, well, Detective." 

Sitting up, she snatched the underwear from him and dropped it to the side of the bed to join her bra. "It's been a while," she said. 

The whole truth was it had been a while _and_ she'd never had foreplay that lasted over an hour, taking her to extreme highs, only to drop her down to, well, virtual speed racing she typically did with her nine-year-old. 

Lucifer chuckled and leaned back on his hands, unbothered by his erection and perhaps flaunting it. "How long's it been?"

"A while," she reiterated, flustered.

"Anyone since Daniel?"

"That's really none of your business."

"Ooh, _no one_ since Daniel, then?" He pouted dramatically. "You poor, neglected woman." 

Sighing, she drew her knees up to her chest and crossed her ankles in front of herself. "I feel weird being the only one undressed." 

"We can change that," he chuckled, his fingers going to the waist of his dress pants.

"Lucifer?" Chloe started, and his hands froze as they locked eyes. "Are we really doing this?"

"If it's what you desire," he said.

"What about you?" she asked. 

He scoffed and looked down at his lap. "Detective, _really_ , I think I'm _abundantly_ clear on the matter. Anyway, you know my door has always been open to you."

It had been, hadn't it? To her and, well, just about everyone else. But she was always the one walking out of it or walking him to her door at an appropriate hour. Until tonight. Tomorrow, they would go back to...whatever they usually were. Friends. Work partners. People who drove each other a little insane. But for now, maybe, they could be something else.

Daring herself to be brave, she crawled closer to him. His easygoing expression morphed into something more akin to panic as his eyes jerked between her face and the rest of her body. It made her smile and feel a little less like she was diving into a deep, dark sea without knowing how to swim. Touching his arm, she swept her fingers down to where his right hand still hovered near his waistband.

"Maybe I can help you now?" She was pleased the proposition came out a lot more confidently than she felt.

"If you'd like," he said, voice catching. He rested back on his hands once more, leaving his body open.

She sat on her heels, thighs pressed close together, and pried loose the metal hook and button to his dress pants. The zipper was finely crafted and made a smooth, pleasant whirr as she lowered it carefully over his erection. Lucifer breathed in small, ragged puffs that she heard herself echoing as she stared at his open fly and the slight strip of rigid, veined flesh peeking between grey fabric. 

Chloe looked up at him, and they both smiled hesitantly. Emboldened by his nervousness, she pressed forward, and he sucked in a sharp breath as her mouth met his and her right hand slipped past the soft fabric of his pants. Lucifer groaned against her tongue as her fingers wrapped around his length. 

He pulled back. "Let me— Let me take these off."

Scurrying off the bed, he dropped his trousers with none of the artistry he'd displayed earlier. His cock sprang free, long and hard, and glistening at its head; more detailed than anything Chloe's dreams had allowed for. Her body hungered at the sight of him naked in her room. 

When he returned to the bed, she went to him and entwined a leg with one of his. At the close contact, a wall crumbled between them, one that, lately, had looked like a criminal who called himself the Sinnerman and the lieutenant who had shot him. Speechless, they took to exploring one another and breathing each other's air. Her fingers followed the hills and valleys of firm stomach muscles, while hands cupped her breasts and thumbs brushed across her nipples. And when he kissed her neck, he buried his fingers in her hair, as if to hold some deep part of her to him. She ran her nails through the light dusting of hair low on his belly and took hold of his cock once more, gripping him firmly, enjoying and desiring the weight of him. She wouldn't have to imagine much longer what it would feel like to hold him within herself.

"Chloe," he gasped, and she sighed into his mouth. It was a rare treasure to hear her name on his lips.

Grabbing her right leg where it lay between his, he dragged it higher across his legs, spreading her thighs wide apart in the process. As they kissed and she worked his cock up and down, he dropped a hand between them. He grinned when his fingers slipped between slick folds and her hips jerked. He pressed his thumb against her clit and rubbed lazy circles that were, she thought, intentionally shy of satisfying. 

"Condom," she murmured against his throat. 

"Oh, what's the rush?" Lucifer asked, peppering kisses down her jaw. "I've not even gone down on you yet." 

"It's"—she glanced over her shoulder at her bedside clock—"one in the morning, and I don't need it."

"But, darling—" Lucifer pulled back enough to give her a troubled frown. "I'm _very_ good. It would be remiss of me not to give you such pleasure."

" _Wow_." She laughed, "Okay, I'm willing to say you might be good, but it's not as if you're God's gift to women."

She regretted it the moment she said it.

"I might be rather close," he said in a way that suggested he was seriously considering the merits of the concept. "Depending on your theological opinions about Eve and the Garden of Ed—"

"I don't have any." Rolling her eyes, she separated from him to stretch across the bed and dig into her nightstand, where she kept a small box of condoms. For just in case she ever had a life outside of work and motherhood.

God, were these condoms even good still? She flipped the box over, hunting for an expiration date and then double-checked on a single foil packet. Two months away from expiring, and only a single one used from the last time she and Dan were together. Pathetic, but at least she had them.

"Everything all right?" Lucifer chuckled behind her, skirting a finger up her left calf.

"Yes," she squeaked, slamming the nightstand closed before she would have to suffer immense teasing. She turned back to him and lifted the small packet with what she hoped was a "come hither" expression. Lucifer frowned at the condom, then at her, and she narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was about to have some absurd argument over safe sex while his cock stood straight in the air. 

"Now, Detective, I _did_ win your little game," he said.

Chloe pursed her lips as she watched his fingers dance along her flesh, leaving fire behind. "That doesn't mean you don't have to wear a condom, Lucifer." Even _with_ a condom, she probably should get tested soon after this. She shoved the practical thought aside before it could waylay her libido.

"What? Of course not. I am a _firm_ believer in the French letter," Lucifer said. "No, it's only I really _must_ insist you let me eat you out." He nodded, a comically sincere expression on his face.

She stared at him, wondering for the millionth time what planet he was from. It wasn't that she didn't want him to exactly, but... He was pouting. "Okay, fine. Let me just go showe—"

"Lovely!" Lucifer said, and gently shoved her backward by her sternum. 

"Lucifer!"

The condom flew out of Chloe's hand as she fell back against the mattress. She gasped a disbelieving laugh as Lucifer fell between her legs and wrapped his arms around her thighs, dragging her down the mattress toward his face. And then he was on her, licking stripes and working his tongue deep, as if she were the last bit of cake batter on a mixer's beater. 

"Holy shit," she breathed, her mouth opening wide as she drove fingers into his hair. 

It really had been a long time.

The way Lucifer gave head was obscene, a French kiss that was filled with moaning and breathed compliments and encouragements. He tried every trick until he landed on one that made her quake and then applied it almost ruthlessly. Heaving gasps, she bent to look at him while he worked like this was a paid job. Without breaking contact, his eyes met hers, and he arched a brow.

"Shit," Chloe laughed again, falling back. Her legs closed around his head as her hips arched up. " _Please don't stop_."

He didn't, and the ache that had begun to throb between her legs well over an hour ago crescendoed and snapped. Chloe slapped a hand over her mouth as she moaned and ground against him, legs trembling. Still, he didn't let up, kissing and licking her through the wave. Finally, she tugged on his hair, pulling him up. 

"You..." she babbled. "You were..."

"See, now, aren't you glad I insisted?" Grinning lasciviously, he sat up on all fours and pressed a damp kiss to her left kneecap. Her eyes dropped to his erection. "Want me to keep going?" he asked.

She patted around on the bed for the condom. Her fingers landed on the packet, which she lifted between them once more. "What I want is _you_."

His playful confidence slipped for reasons she didn't understand. He nodded gravely and took the condom from her. Pleasure still flowing through her body, Chloe turned on her side and propped herself up on an elbow to watch him roll the condom onto his impressive form with practiced ease. He was quiet.

She touched his thigh. "Is everything okay?" Maybe she should have offered to return the favor. She'd just thought...

He stared at her for a long moment, the yellow glow of her lamps casting shadows across his face. "I don't want you to regret this." He averted his eyes and became focused on the red digits of her alarm clock. "I don't want you to regret _me_."

Chloe sat up at once and found his hand. "Lucifer, I couldn't regret you."

"But I've...made a real cock-up of things lately." He huffed down at his erection, which flagged slightly in the condom. "And not the good kind."

She couldn't say it was okay. It wasn't. _He_ wasn't. He had always needed help she couldn't give him, that seemingly even Linda couldn't give him. And sometimes his mental health disrupted cases to terrible ends. But she spoke the truth when she said, "I don't regret our partnership or you." Brushing a hand down his chest, she added, "I won't after tonight, either."

But she knew letting him go, when he inevitably found a newer, hotter, and younger person to fill his bed, would hurt more after this.

Lucifer's eyes shined, glassy, and she opened her arms. "Come here," she whispered, resting her legs on either side of his. 

Maybe she didn't have the kinds of physical talents he did, but she thought she knew how to console the scarred part of him he sometimes bared. Or, at least she was willing to try.

He leaned over her, his body warm, his breath uneven. She reached between them, skirting her fingers down his skin until she took him in hand and drew her knees back, opening her body in silent invitation. He shook as he pressed into her, sliding in and out in small, sweet increments to let her body become used to him, and for some reason the memory of him throwing a man through a window flashed through her mind's eye. She feared she would never understand his strength or weakness.

But then their hips met, and the memory faded as they sighed in unison. Chloe smiled up at him and kissed him gently, tasting the salt of herself on his lips.

"I guess Hell froze over," she teased, running fingers through his hair.

Lucifer ran his nose up the side of her neck. "Not that I'm aware of." 

They were quiet as they moved, full of tiny, shared breaths that turned into soft moans sighed into skin. And Chloe feared for her heart as he clutched his arms around her and pressed kisses to her cheeks and hair. As she was treasured and treasured him.

Sweat broke across her breasts as Lucifer strained toward her body, and then suddenly she was on the edge of an old precipice. She chanted a chorus of _ohs_ , and he leaned back, tucking his hands beneath her bottom to lift her slightly. The change in angle was a shock that sent her tumbling over the edge, her muscles clamping around his hard length as his name fell from her lips.

His hands slid from her rear and landed on her breasts, squeezing as his hips jerked forward one last time. Drowning in her own delight, Chloe rolled her hips and watched, mesmerized, as he came unraveled above her. The mask he so often wore over his tenderness slipped as he groaned when release hit him. He was beautiful like this, she thought, and caressed him softly.

A loud _fwoosh_ sounded as two giant wings burst into existence behind him. Chloe's heart skipped a beat, and her mouth hung open in silent shock. She jerked her head left and right to take in the wide, brilliant expanse of pearl white wings. Feathers stretched far and high, fanning and bending against the walls of her room.

"Lucifer?"

"Chloe," he sighed. 

"It's all true," she breathed. Her eyes found his as she trembled. "It's all true."

Lucifer craned his neck over his shoulder, following her line of sight. He turned back with wild eyes. 

" _Bollocks_."

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
